


Lost in the Wild

by apackofsmokes



Series: Misguided Plans [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chimera Stiles Stilinski, M/M, illusions to torture, post 5A
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 00:39:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4685648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apackofsmokes/pseuds/apackofsmokes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo is sauntering towards him with a predatory look, what a <i>dick<i>.</i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in the Wild

**Author's Note:**

> What even is this? I might post more but [shrugs]
> 
> for this [prompt](http://smokesforwolves.tumblr.com/post/127758457098)

He jerks awake all at once, pain flaring through every inch of his body, places he didn’t even know could _feel_ that way. It takes him about a dozen blinks before he can even gage where he is. Looking down, it’s worse than he though as the Nemeton pulses beneath him, it’s magic clogging the crisp winter air. He sees a figure moving off to the left and fuck, it’s double worse than he thought. Because now Theo is sauntering towards him with a predatory look, what a _dick _.__

“Sleeping beauty awakes! I was almost worried, you took a lot longer than the others, but I guess what you are might change up the process a bit.”

Theo sits down barely a foot from Stiles at the edge of the stump, like this is just a normal night hanging out in the preserve, not a ‘ _I just turned you into a supernatural hybrid to join my pack_ ’ type thing.

Stiles tries to open his mouth to tell him exactly where he can shove his process, but all that comes out is a pained whimper. Apparently Theo was expecting some grade A snark and looks a little put off that Stiles didn’t start sassing immediately. Something like realization shines in his blue eyes.

“Oh shit, right, here.” Pulling a syringe out his pocket with green liquid glowing bright. _Spooky_ , Stiles thinks, hoping that whatever the fuck is in that will kill him quickly before he has to hear Theo’s latest villian monologue.

Then there’s a needle in his arm and ice pulling him under. He must have black out because when he comes to a second time he’s wrapped in strong warm arms. Aren't werewolf heaters just the _best_?

Stiles’ brain is fuzzy and he knows something is definitely wrong, but god he hasn’t felt an embrace this comforting in months. “Der? What’re we doing in the woods?” They only spend full moons getting frisky out here, and looking up it’s a waxing gibbous. Then he remembers.

He must have been missing for about a week going by the moon phase. A week of being strapped down, needle and tubes in and out of his skin, while metal masks played Operation with his half dead body. And if he’s not there anymore, not feeling the heavy weight in his veins, then that must mean...

Sobs claw their way from his throat, as Theo’s arms tighten “Shhh Stiles, it’s ok. It’s ok.” He feels Theo’s stubble and nose brush it’s way up his neck until a hot wet tongue is dragging across his cheek catching the silver tears. “You belong to me now Stiles. We’re pack and pack needs each other.”

Stiles stares up at the night sky and hopes this time Scott will kill him when he asks.


End file.
